Trafficking
by moonlit flower
Summary: Set in a modern background, a partially crazed Naruto deals with his stoic love's silence in a half-thought out manner. Au. SasuNaru


Title: Trafficking

Pairings: SasuNaru

Disclaimer: Standard.

traffic (n): Social or verbal exchange; communication 

_trafficking (v): To carry on trade or other dealings_

-

"You promised you would never leave me behind. Didn't you? Was it only a dream that you said this to me? This dream that was so gentle and held me so close? Was it only a dream? Could you not speak those words I needed in veracity held dear?

-

I stared at the person passing by. Passing by with nothing to say. You have abandoned me have you not?  
There was something a long time ago that you wanted to say to me, which is sealed up tight in your lips.  
Why can you not let it out? Does it truly matter that much, that I would and could returnyour feelings.  
And that then our love would blossom alongside each other? Tell me!

The traffic light turned green and a multitude of people surged by. I was somehow carried by the wave of living cells more down the cement street I stood. Each one of them had some purpose, a fate and destiny in life.

Could one of them help me?

I grabbed one of the closest ones. He was old, middle-aged. Gray hair combed over in a vain effort to cover the wide expanse of shining skin. I grabbed him by the lapels of his overcoat. A second layer underneath made him look more rotund than was normal.

The man yelled at me. He inflated his rosy cheek with some foolish thing that had escaped from his throat, so I threw him down. This one would be of no use but surely one of these people could make you speak that way. Could give me passionate words instead of gentle glances. I am no longer content with these soft looks. Please, Dear God, please, give me your speech, your precious mouth. I want to be taken by you, Sasuke. To be raped, I'm a willing rape. Is that why you don't love me? Is that why you can't tell me those few precious needs I want so badly?

The traffic light turned yellow. I managed to fight my way through, stopping at the edge of cement. More people swept by. They were hurried now, attempting to beat the time. Why? The yellow light did not demand speed. It could not speak, so how could it demand anything? Gestures are unimportant, symbols are simply symbolic, and can be taken into so many forms. But then, speech, with speech I can clench the words into my fist.

Some ladies passed by me with their perfumed bodies and frizzy hair. One of them clenched a cup of coffee in her red talons. I remember once you said you would marry for a good cup of coffee. Did you marry her, Sasuke? Did her destiny weave with yours for a while, you who have slept with so many? You who have added so many notches to your bedpost it fell from lack of wood. I snatched the coffee from her hands and threw it to the ground. The sound that resulted was high-pitched and shrill. I looked toward the coffee cup; it was a brand name. No, this could not be your bride, Sasuke. She was too much of a harpy for you.

The traffic light turned red. Cars that had stood at bay whisked past. Within a few hairsbreadth of me people were living. They had loving, lover and love. Could this be too much for one simpleton to grasp? That there were others beside me alive, that they had lives that might entwine with ours, that they have warm, red crimsoned veined words of their own. If I were to merge with them, could I have a loved one? I stepped out in a trance. Yes, I might be knocked into their path. Two feet stilled on the path of a cherry Ford. I could have my own warm, red words.

A pair of slim white hands pulled me back minutes before the Ford hit. I was cradled to a big warm chest, which encompassed me fully. Every second ticked past like a bulldozer toward my thoughts. In that moment, all of my past theorems and strongholds broke. I was as weak as a kitten then, clutched against her master.Blinded with confusion, wishing for nothing but a silent sheath. Droplets struck freely down my astonished face. Strong, pale arms squeezed me close against a pressed suit. They rocked me up against a firm body, something solid and real. An anchor, if I must, to pull myself from within the deep, deep reaches of thought. No words were exchanged.

And I knew by the feeling this hold had given me; gestures had overpowered words.

-

That night, I lay thinking, with our blonde and raven locks curled around each other. I feel that there is no one in the world. That no one could intrude into our destiny so thickly packed. Because, my path had faults, as did yours, but when mashed together, our paths become solid. Then,something heavy curled up upon me, arm resting over the top of my chest. This gesture made my breath stop, my heart frolic. This gesture that is worth so many cumbersome words. It does not matter if you would not speak it, it does not matter if you could not speak. As long as you could communicate, even with any sense, I am happy.

Words no longer mean a thing.

-

That was strange to say the least. Perhaps, it came from my near-death experience of walking in front of a car. I was nearly hit, but then this kind of thing happens to a lot of people right? Anyway, it might have been that circumstance that prompted me to write, but, that happened a few months ago…well; no matter where it came from it is…satiated?

Reviews for the Needy.

One second of your time could make a writers-blocked girl in the slums of literature be well nourished for another story. I would hold out the proverbial tin can, but, alas, even that I cannot afford.


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